


He was alone.

by GrungeIsDead



Category: Green Day
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 00:49:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6352258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrungeIsDead/pseuds/GrungeIsDead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stood there, looking down at the concrete below him. It was now or never.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He was alone.

He was all alone. 

He stood there, looking down over the edge, staring at the concrete beneath his feet and how close they were to falling. How close he was to falling. Cigarette smoke clouded his vision, making the ground seem a million miles away. Perfect. He wanted it to be quick. He didn't want to suffer any more than he already had. He didn't want his friends to think he had suffered more than he already had. He just wanted to be dead.

He could hear the sound of music being played downstairs; the only thing that seemed worth it in the world at this point. Making music was the only thing that kept him alive this whole time. The only thing that kept his mind off suicide. Off dying. Off pain. Off death. Of course he knew death was inevitable. If he didn't do it tonight, there would always be tomorrow, and if he didn't do it then, who knew. All he knew was that he was going to die in the end no matter what, so what was the use of sticking around until then? 

It's wasn't like he was doing anyone a favour by staying alive. His friends would probably replace him in a week, and make a more successful career than he had ever had. They would cry for a day or so, and then get over it. Go back to their girlfriends and wives and kids and what not. He'd be forgotten, and life would go on. He had no doubts about this; it was how it was going to be. He couldn't change it, and he sure as hell didn't want to. 

It felt like his heart was bleeding inside his chest. Bleeding poison instead of blood, infecting his whole body with a toxic substance that could only result in pain. It was love. Love had struck him in the face and was beating him to pulp and he couldn't fight back. Love was coursing trough his veins and pulsing inside him like a wild animal, waiting to kill its pray, who just happened to be hosting the creature in the first place. It was vicious and violent and tender and caring all at once. It was eating away at him and he was quitting. He was giving up. He tried once to fight... To try to ignore the sensation... But love demands to be felt, just as pain does. 

A light breeze picked up and his hair flew into his eyes, obscuring his vision of the concrete below him. He felt like he could fall at any moment. The slightest of movements would surely knock him over. Perhaps if the wind blew a little harder...

Suddenly, the door leading to the roof burst open, and a frightened-looking Billie Joe stood there, eyes wide. 

"Mike..." He whispered, petrified with fear.

Mike didn't turn his head; he just glanced at Billie as he took another drag on his cigarette, scraping his feet on the worn concrete. His breath was steady despite the height and situation, but the same could not be said for the boy standing at the door.

"Please, Mike, step down... Come here..." He said softly. "Come here, Mikey." The bassists hands were shaking in contrast to his breath. He was nervous, but not afraid. He was nervous as to what death might bring him to; heaven, hell, nothing at all... "Please, come here..." 

Mike stood still on the ledge, not daring to move for he might fall. He listened to the pleas of his best friend's voice, hitching on every breath, making a single tear run down Mike's cheek. He was in pain because of him. Billie was in pain. Billie should not have come up there.

"You shouldn't have come up here." He said, repeating his thoughts.

"I-I couldn't find you and I got worried and I-I just wanted to check if you were alright..." He whispered. "J-just please step off of there Mikey, please. Lets talk. J-just come over here." 

The offer was tempting. Very tempting indeed. But Billie was married now. He had been married for 3 months, and was very much in love with his wife. They were expecting. Wasn't that lovely? Wasn't that just splendid? Weren't they so cute?

The thought brought more tears to Mike's eyes. He tried to blink them away, but they wouldn't leave. He had no one now. Anastasia had left him, Billie was married, Tre was in a relationship and everyone else he knew were either dead or going to be soon. Including him. Why? Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't someone just fucking talk to him? Why couldn't someone just care? For once in his goddammed life could someone just please love him!

"Mike..." Billie pleaded, and Mike's heart just exploded.

"Fuck Billie! I came out here to die and that's what I'm going to do! Can't you fucking see that? It's not like you ever notice I'm hurting anyways, so I guess I can't blame you. I'm just so sick of being alone all the time! I'm sick of being unwanted! I'm sick not being loved, Billie! So could you please just fucking let me die?!" Mike yelled, turning to face the black-haired boy. More tears started forming and spilling out onto his cheeks. He knew he was being selfish and weak. That's all he's ever been. A coward. "Just let me die." He whispered.

He was now sitting on the ledge, facing Billie with his head in his hands, rocking slightly back and forth, repeating to himself, "Just let me die, just let me die." He had no idea how he had gone from standing up to sitting down in such a short amount of time, but yet, there he was, feet placed safely on the ground of the roof, where they weren't intended to be. 

"Just let me die." He said again, hearing Billie's footsteps get closer and closer, finally stopping in front of him. 

Billie's hand reached out for Mike, but he just couldn't grasp him. It was strange, almost symbolic. Billie was close enough to see and hear, but yet he could touch him.

"Just let me die." 

"Tell me what's going on. Please."

"Just let me die." 

"Mike."

"Please, please... Just let me die." 

"Mikey..."

"J-J-Just... L-Let..." He couldn't finish his sentence he was crying so hard. His chest heaved for air and his whole body shivered, but not from the cold. He was a mess. It had dawned on him how much he was burdening Billie with his problems. He didn't need this, going into fatherhood. He didn't this starting a new marriage. He didn't need this ever. He didn't need someone who could easily be replaced. Easily forgotten. Easily destroyed. He didn't need a problem like Mike. 

It was then that Billie wrapped his thin arms around Mike's neck and hugged him. Really hugged him. Tightly. He pressed his warm body against Mike's in an embrace so tight he forgot to breathe. Reality hit him like a brick wall.

He's was going to die. He was going to be a pile of blood and bones. He was going to be free from his troubles and worries and regrets and mistakes... But he wouldn't be with Billie. He wouldn't be with the only person that made his life somewhat make sense. He wouldn't have Billie. His Billie. 

"Fuck... Fuck..." Mike repeated, beating the sides of his head with the heels of his hands.

"Mike, stop." Billie said, grabbing hold of Mike's wrists and preventing him from continuing his action. The singer reached under Mike's chin and forced him to look up, locking eyes with him. Tears threatened to spill out over his cheeks, and it made Mike even more sad to see Billie this way. 

"My heart hurts, Billie." Mike whimpered, not knowing how else to put it. "It hurts and it won't stop." He whispered, barely audible even to himself. 

"W-What... Or... Who... Who hurt your heart?" Billie asked, his voice quivering. Mike took a deep breath and wriggled out of Billie's grasp. His emerald eyes seemed to be shining in the low evening light. His dark hair looked sleek and clean, unusually well-kept. His lips were dark because of his crying, making him seem even more perfect that ever. Mike sighed.

"You."

And then, suddenly, with a blood-curling scream, it wasn't Mike who was all alone.


End file.
